


Dealing in Secrets

by Darknessalwaysfalls



Series: Transgender and Older Sam [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Age Swap, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Co-Dependency, Crossroads Deals & Demons, Different Plot, FTM Sam, Gen, Gender Identity, Male Pronouns, Mentions of past prostitution, Older Brother Sam Winchester, Temporary Character Death, The briefest allusion to possible suicide, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Trans Sam Winchester, Transgender, Transgender Sam, Younger Brother Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-12
Updated: 2014-03-12
Packaged: 2018-01-15 07:30:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1296577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darknessalwaysfalls/pseuds/Darknessalwaysfalls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Transgender and older Sam universe timestamp: Dean is dead. There is only one logical choice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dealing in Secrets

**Author's Note:**

> You don't have to read the first one for it to make sense, but it will help to clear any confusion. Warning, this is angst and Sam isn't stable so his thoughts include a brief, and I mean brief, allusion to possible suicide. Also, past underage prostitution is mentioned. I don't want to trigger anyone so I'm telling you now.

It was no decision at all to drive all the way to the nearest crossroads. Luckily, they had already been there before on a different job so Sam didn't need to waste time to stop and consult a map. He could drive straight there, for once ignoring the speed limit. Dean's body lay strapped in the backseat because Sam didn't want him to bounce around like - he shut down that thought and swallowed reflexively against the lump in his throat. The never drying tear tracks on his face seemed nearly alien compared to the absolute numbness inside. His thoughts were clear. Clear enough anyways. Dean could never accuse him of making a hasty decision. It was the only logical choice. 

Sam glanced back while he drove. His younger brother was wrapped snugly in the blanket that Sam dug out of the trunk, looking like an older version of what he looked like when their mother brought him back from the hospital so many years ago. An older version of what he looked like when Sam ran from their burning house, clutching his little brother close, terrified that he would drop him. A brief flash of Dean's tiny baby face, a full head of wispy blonde hair and bright innocent eyes in his mind's eye caused Sam to quickly turn to look back at the road. His baby brother. He would save him again. Protect him. 

_A full circle,_ His mind whispered to him. _Or a broken one. 'Cause who will protect him after you're gone?_  
"Shut up." Sam muttered under his breath with a tinge of hysteria adding crispness to his words. He would do what he has to. What he can only do. Even if Dean hated him for it. 

Gravel crunched under the tires of the Impala as the road changed from asphalt. It was still too quiet without his younger brother's noisy presence. Sam could hear the stones hit the underside of the Chevy. His heartbeat was unnaturally loud in his ears. Like it only wanted to mock him for the lack of one in Dean. Mock him for his failure. 

"Almost there, Dean." Sam said to the oppressive silence. "Then you can continue to eat as much pie as you want. Go back to stealing my laptop to watch your porn." His voice hitched. "Blasting your awful music and driving the Impala and -" 

He had to stop. The lump in his throat prevented any noise from emerging, the tears starting to obscure his vision. He needed to get there now. Before the numbness truly evaporated. Finally, the crossroads appeared in sight. The light of the moon illuminated the area, throwing shadows in the long grass lining the sides of the crossroads. Fog floated in patches above the grass. The sky was actually starting to lighten. Sam threw the Impala in park and grabbed the tiny tin box in the passenger seat. It used to contain bullets but now held the ingredients needed to summon the demon. How ironic that something that normally housed objects used for death was instead being used to contain objects that would allow life to return. And eventually death again. So maybe not completely ironic. Though those bullets that were now loaded in the gun tucked in his jeans were still an option if the deal didn't work. 

Sam climbed out of the car, clutching the box. The older brother walked a couple of paces before he crouched and scoped handfuls of dirt and gravel from the ground. When he had a deep enough hole, he placed the box inside and covered it back up. Looking up, he nearly panicked when a pair of bare legs stood only a meter away. Sam scrambled to his feet and barely refrained from drawing the gun on the smiling possessed woman in front of him. She tilted her head daintily. 

"Hello, Sam." She purred. "I've been _dying_ to meet you." 

Sam ignored the jab. He was here for Dean, not anything else. 

"I want to deal. My soul in ten years for my brother's life." His hoarse voice still rang strong. The demon just smirked and crossed her thin pale arms on her ample chest. The blood red skimpy dress matched her amused eyes. 

"Right down to business? Oh, that's right," She huffed a laugh. "No playing with celibate Sammy Winchester. So unlike his little brother. He was so much more fun." She taunted. "But that's not really true, is it?"

She tilted her head the other way and stepped closer. She probably would barely even reach his chest if it wasn't for the five inch heels she wore, but Sam forced himself to not step back. 

"The deal. Will you agree to it?" He said through gritted teeth.

She only smiled indulgently. 

"Answer me!" Sam shouted. His voice cracked in the middle, adding a desperate edge to his words.

"Hmmm. Let me tell you a secret, Sam." She leaned in conspiratorially. Sam stayed as still as possible. Her lips brushed his ear as she continued in a whisper. "I will agree only if you agree to three years instead of ten."

Sam recoiled. 

"No, I want the usual ten."

She shrugged. "Then no deal."

"Why not?!" He said in disbelief. 

"It's business, Sam. Isn't that what sex is to you?" The demon said, cocking her hips suggestively. 

"You whore!" Sam snapped. 

She lifted a delicately plucked eyebrow. "I think that would describe you better, _Samantha_."

Sam snarled. His face twisted in hatred and anger, disrupting the continuous tear tracks to form new trails down his face.

"You say that it's business. I counter offer then. Seven years."

"No can do, honey. You see, that's not how it works. I call the shots here. I make the contracts. You just seal them." She explained. 

"Then it's not a business." Sam stated. 

"Sorry?" She said with creased eyebrows. 

"That's not a business. Businesses make compromises with their customers to protect profit. Make your price too steep and customers won't pay for your product. You don't raise the number of years I get and you don't get my soul. I'm selling my soul and you're selling the wish. I have already compromised to seven years. It's time for you to too." Sam said in a rush. 

The demon stared for a while at him. He shifted uncomfortably, thinking he went too far and will need to start begging, until she finally shook her head. 

"You Winchesters. You never fail to surprise to me. How about this, Sam? Since you managed to impress me, I'll give you five years. It's much more time than my employers want, but I like your audacity. Who knows, maybe I will see you sooner if you get yourself killed." The demon grinned. "So what do you say?"

Sam shuddered. He knew that there was no chance for a better deal. This would have to do. He nodded solemnly. 

"Okay."

Her grin widened as she stepped right against his chest and wrapped her arms around his neck. 

"Pucker up like you're being paid, honey." She said before pulling Sam's head to her level. Sam gripped her hips to steady himself, then leaned in and kissed the demon. Going for chaste, Sam felt assaulted by the demanding plush lips of the possessed woman. When she finally stopped shoving her tongue into his mouth and broke away, Sam immediately released her hips and stepped back. His initial relief soured. Dean was going to kill him when he found out. He was going to have to keep it a secret. Something that they promised they would never do with each other. Something that Sam already broke once. 

"Oh, cheer up!" The demon said. "You get your brother's life and an extra five years to spend it with him! Don't be so serious. They say laughter increases your lifespan. Well, I guess not in your case." Her chuckle was more unsettling then her words. 

Sam glanced back at the Impala, almost expecting Dean to jump out and start shouting. 

"When will Dean -"

"Oh, he'll wake up in an hour or two." She giggled. "I suggest getting out of here if you don't want to have to explain what happened."

He turned back towards her to retort, only to realize that the crossroads demon was already gone. There was no trace of her in the mist. Sam looked around for a second then rushed to the Chevy, throwing open the back door. Dean hadn't moved from his snug cocoon, but in the dim light, Sam could see his chest rise and fall steadily. Relief coursed through him, chasing away the dread and bringing a thin smile to his lips. Dean was alive. Anything else didn't matter. Now he needed to protect Dean from the truth again. Jumping into the driver's seat, Sam quickly pulled the car away, driving for the diner he remembered seeing an hour back. It was close enough that he could make it there hopefully without Dean waking and close enough to their last hunt that it would invoke minimum suspicion. Sam glanced back at Dean, the relief so strong at seeing him breathing nearly overwhelming him. The numbness and lump in his throat had vanished. He felt as though he could sing. He nearly did just that before he remembered himself. It was like that the entire drive. When Sam finally pulled into the parking lot for the diner, Dean was just stirring and the sun was just peaking over the horizon. He shifted in his sleep to his stomach and mumbled. After he parked, Sam quickly wiped his face, erasing the past eight hours. Turning around, he slapped Dean's ass. Dean jolted awake, fighting the blanket violently. 

"Raise and shine, butterfly boy." Sam said a little too high-pitched. Dean extracted himself from the makeshift cocoon. His bottom lip jutted out in grumpiness. Sam smiled in genuine fondness before getting out of the Impala. Dean followed. 

"What the hell, Sam? Couldn't you wake me up normally?"

Sam chuckled as they entered the diner. The waitress gave them a suspicious look. Sam realized that his hands were covered in dirt. In fact, even his coat was dusty from the crossroads. He excused himself to the bathroom. Dean watched him go, a little puzzled. His older brother's cheeks were slightly puffy and his eyes were more blue-grey than hazel, something they only did when Sam cried. Why would Sam cry? Actually, he couldn't remember anything up to this point. Just pain as the witch shoved a knife at him, then nothing. Why couldn't he remember anything else? His clothes were clean. Amazingly, no pain radiated from his stomach, but bandages were wrapped around it. Did Sam give him the good stuff? Why didn't he feel woozy then?

When Sam emerged from the bathroom and sat down in the booth across from him, Dean couldn't resist assessing him. 

"Hey, you doing okay, Dean? You took a major hit to the head earlier." Sam said lightly. 

"Huh?"

"The witch got you good across the back of your head. Do you feel better? You were sort of out of it when I finally got to you." Sam lied, keeping the right inflection to avoid suspicion. 

"Huh? Is that why I can't remember anything?" Dean mused. It made sense up to a point. "Why the hell do I have bandages wrapped around me?"

"I don't know. As I said, you were really out of it. You kept screaming that your stomach hurt and wanted bandages." Sam shrugged and looked away. Dean looked confused. 

"Huh?"

"Yeah, you weren't all there." Sam said to the air in a shaky huff he could barely conceal. Dean watched as his brother fidgeted slightly and bit his lip. Something was bothering Sam. Dean imagined that him screaming hysterically would have probably rattled Sam a lot. No wonder he looked like he had been crying. He'd always been sensitive even though he concealed it well. 

"Weird. Must have been some witch mumbo jumbo. Well, I guess I'm fine. Just some gaps in my memory. Probably a good thing. I don't want to remember your lovey dovey carebear skills."

Sam huffed a laugh and smiled. Dean was alright. Everything was good. 

"Did you kill the bitch?"

"What?" Panic started filtering into Sam. He didn't think Dean knew. 

"Did you gank what's-her-face? Mrs. Wicked Witch of the West? The witch? I know I didn't." Dean raised his eyebrows at Sam's confusion. 

"Oh, yeah. She's dead." Sam nodded. He didn't add that she was in pieces by the time he was finished with her or that he burned down the entire house to make sure he got everything including the bloodstains so that there was no chance that she could come back even as a ghost. 

"Good." Dean said just as the waitress appeared to take their orders. They didn't talk much during breakfast. Both quietly trying to figure out what the other brother was thinking. By the afternoon, they had returned to normal. Though, Dean's suspicions rose when he found some blood on the bandages, but Sam brushed off his concern, saying that he had to use old bandages. Dean was confused because Sam was such a clean freak that they never had any dirty medical supplies. But he pushed the odd occurrence to the back of his mind when he saw how Sam blanched at the sight of the bright red blood. He wasn't going to force Sam to relive memories that were obviously traumatizing if he didn't want to talk about it. Avoiding any chick flick moments were key to survival. Luckily or unluckily, the deal remained Sam's secret for over two years.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please give me feedback! I love any response and will work hard to improve my writing.


End file.
